Childbirth and infant feeding: why the war?

The polarisation of opinion with regard to these topics is growing by the minute…and there is much to debate. For this post my thoughts are focused on childbirth, although both subjects are absolutely interlinked.

My initial response when I read condemnations for those who promote and support normal physiological childbirth or breastfeeding is of sadness and shame. Sadness that there has potentially been some degree of personal distress for the one proclaiming their opinion. Shame that my profession is often part of the ‘problem.’

I see and hear opposing yet valid viewpoints about childbirth on almost a daily basis, mainly via blogs, Facebook and Twitter. We are all entitled to our opinion, and it’s good that there can now be a degree of open debate via social media channels. The problem arises when journalists and high profile individuals sensationalise a particular topic through mass media, basing their opinion on their personal experience. This can be inadvertently damaging, especially when related to childbirth.

Kirstie Allsopp’s response to the recent ‘too posh to push’ coverage in the Telegraph is an example of this. I can fully understand Kirstie’s retaliation to the implications that the Caesarean Section (CS) rate is higher in middle class areas, there may be something personal in that. The fact may have an element of truth, but the reasons for the increasing unnecessary intervention and related CS rates aren’t as simple as this. There are other suggestions for the relentless shift.

As stated in the Telegraph article, and in opposition to what the article headline actually suggests, women choosing to have major surgery instead of giving birth naturally are in the minority, and if there is a request is it usually for a very valid reason, usually associated with unprecedented fear.

Instead, the evidence and debate on the declining normal birth rate points to factors such as increasing maternal age, complexities of pregnancy, increased numbers of multiple pregnancies due to assisted conception, lack of senior doctors to make decisions on birth suite, low midwifery numbers, midwifery skill mix, focus on risk factors, women’s uninformed choices, inappropriate use of clinical ‘guidelines’….the list goes on.

For decades, childbearing women have been marginalised. I witnessed this during the thirty plus years I worked as a midwife, as did (and still do) my midwifery colleagues throughout the UK and beyond. Women’s belief in their ability to birth their babies is declining rapidly as a result of unnecessary medicalisation in maternity care. This was recognised as a growing problem more than thirty years ago, and midwifery organisations such as the Association of Radical Midwives and service user organisations such as the National Childbirth Trust thankfully and successfully campaigned for change.

Whilst practices of unnecessary medical intervention in the childbirth process continues globally, there is a continued and renewed uprising; women, midwives and obstetricians are recognising the potential consequential harm to mother and baby. Childbearing women in particular are the catalyst for change. Instead of remaining afraid, women are forming organisations to support parents to be, such as The Birth I Want, The Positive Birth Movement, One World Birth and Birthrights. Doctors and Midwives are active too. I imagine if Kirstie was having her babies twenty years ago she would been amongst those initial radicals campaigning for change. But with the drive and energy for change comes expectations of parents, and when those expectations aren’t reached for whatever reason, disappointment seems to initiate the need to blame instead of pursuing further change.

The topic is a complex one. But take a look at the chart here. The Caesarean section rate is increasing, and the normal birth rate decreasing. This alarming fact isn’t matched with improved health for mother and baby, in fact I would suggest it has had the opposite effect.

So, are we wrong to try to influence the way babies are born? I think not. But instead of arguing and blaming others, women, men and families must try to move together. The evidence is stacked high that where birth is as close to nature as possible, where women are cared for respectfully and her caregivers are respected then maternal and child health is at it’s best. Some women need intervention. Both my daughters did, and it was life saving. But we are now in a danger zone where medical advances are replacing nature, and that causes harm and was never meant to be.

So come on. Women are not ‘too posh to push’. They are strong and powerful, and if they are given respectful and supportive maternity care they will flourish as women and as mothers. But they need to know and understand the evidence behind the implications of some of the choices they make, and that others try to make for them. Those providing that information and encouraging them to achieve their goal does not mean they have a ‘luddite obsession’ and they are not the purporters of guilt. Midwives are feeling more desperate for change by the day, and they need women (and their partners) to help them to reverse the trend.

Let’s get together Kirstie, and see what we can do.

Childbirth chart BirthChoiceUK

Photograph copyrighted to SevernJonesPhotography

Recycling and helping others.... another tick for Australia!

This is my niece's bed, on the 'nature strip' (grass area) in front of their house in Barwon Heads, Australia. When we arrived to stay with them, we already knew what that meant. Whilst visiting Bondi with Tom and Claire we discovered this fabulous recycling idea. 

Tom and Claire had completely furnished their rented accommodation with other people's cast offs...beds, tables, chairs, television. They's taken some from nature strips, and other items had been obtained via Gumtree. As we walked through the streets we would see items of household furniture left out in front of houses and shortly after they would be gone, taken by some grateful person. Apparently the council removes items that aren't possessed within two weeks, so streets don't become unsightly. We were staggered, yet amazed. Instead of taking unwanted items to rubbish dumps or selling them on eBay (I am sure that still happens) they were donated, free of charge. 

I know this happens in England, where possessions can be donated to raise money for charity or through the brilliant Freecycle website, but I have to say the idea and ease of using the front of your house really appealed to me. BUT, this may be tricky in the UK with the unpredictable weather...

So what about Lottie's unwanted bed? Well, it was taken by some lucky individual a week later. 

A day for mothers....

Image

It's a funny thing, Mother's Day. It's today in England, yet I am in Australia and the day is celebrated later in the year, as in America and some European countries.

What is the meaning of the occasion? I know there are many that think it to be a commercial ploy to sell cards and gifts which profit only manufacturers and retail outlets. But I am not so cynical, and not really bothered about such negativities.

Even though I have four children and love to hear from them on Mother's Day, I really just like to think about my mother, Kathleen. My sister took this photograph of our beautiful mum many years after she suffered a cruel and debilitating stroke, rendering her disabled and unable to speak. She lived until her late 80's....and spent more than 20 years locked in her body and without the means to tell us how she felt, or what she really needed. Writing my book, Catching Babies, helped me to keep Mum's spirit alive, but how I wish I was sending her a loving wish today just to see those smiling eyes shine and sparkle with happiness. I know all my sisters feel the same too. We so miss you mum.

Yesterday a florist arrived at the door of my niece's home in Barwon Heads, Victoria. 'These are for Sheena Byrom' the man said. Flowers and a lovely card from my two daughters back in England. They couldn't see my eyes shining with happiness, but they'll read this and know that they did.

One happy mother.

Image

Meet Bert and Tess: an extraordinary ‘ordinary’ couple

I couldn't believe my luck.

There we were, at Julie and Tony's wedding anniversary party in their home, Barwon Heads. I was introduced to Julie's parents Bert and Tess, and their English accent came through loud and clear. When I asked the question 'how long have you lived in Australia?' Tess told me they came in 1969. I was hooked! My interest in Australia's growth, especially from the European influence, was sparked again through this fortunate meeting with this extraordinary couple.

Tess and Bert and their three children Roger, Julie and Ian came to Australia on Wednesday 28^th August  in 1969 as Ten Pound POMs .

Now this couple think they are ordinary, and unremarkable. As with most married folks reaching their 60^th wedding anniversary celebration they have a story to tell, which in itself is an extraordinary thing. And as I sat wide-eyed, intrigued and enthralled by Cockney sounding tales of their life’s journey before and after they met, I quickly reached the conclusion that their story was in no way run of the mill.

Both from England, Tess is from Dunstable, and Bert was born in Luton.  As a midwife I find this quote from Bert interesting:

'Aunt Nellie’s husband had a brother who was married to a woman that practised midwifery.  Her name was May Irons and I’m not sure if she had had any proper training as a midwife.  In any case it was she who delivered me in their house at number 8 Kenneth Road in the suburb of Round Green, Luton, in the county of Bedfordshire'.

Bert Virgo was born in 1924. He had a fascinating early life which I will write about another time, then he met and fell in love with young Tess and went on to marry her.  When Bert was offered a job with Ford motor cars in Geelong Australia, and an immigration package, he jumped at the chance but Tess took a little more convincing.  With three young children it would be hard, with no close family and friends to rely on. But as with others who were offered a new start in the Southern Hemisphere, the Australian Government paid for the Virgo’s flight and their belongings to be brought across the sea. They were given accommodation and transport until a time when they could afford to sort their own, and Bert’s salary increased substantially.

The young family, pictured here, flew to Sydney and then on to Essedon (then airport for Melbourne) on this Boeing 707-338C. It took 24 hours all in all, but they look surprisingly refreshed! Can’t get over your shirt and tie Bert!What an adventure it must have been.  At the airport they were met by two of Tess’s aunts who had emigrated previously (pictured) and Bill Howard, a representative from Ford. Bill had never travelled far and clearly didn’t understand the concept of flying from UK to Australia, as he took them on a pleasure tour of Geelong,  dined in a small restaurant, then took Tess shopping! The tears Tess shed at this stage were probably from extreme exhaustion, although she said the strangeness of the environment didn’t help.

What were Bert and Tess’ first impressions of Geelong, and this new, far away country? ‘Dodge City by the sea’ said Bert. ‘I could almost imagine hitchin' posts being there to tie a horse on. It was quaint. Geelong only had one roundabout, and one set of traffic lights'.  I have to agree Bert, even today some of the towns I have passed through in Australia remind me of scenes from the Wild West.

Bert and Tess found their new world quite different from their home in England. Shortly after arriving Bert woke at 2am to the sound of a horse going up street. He woke Tess, and they looked out of the window into the faintly lit street below. It was the milk man!

But the family loved the beaches and the sunshine, and settled well into schools and a new life. Their children and grandchildren are Australian and are very proud of it.

Bert is 88 years young and recalled the fine detail of his tales as though it were yesterday. And Tess with her bound volumes of rich, intricate family history that I didn’t have time to read. It would take me months, and how I would relish looking in more detail if I lived nearer.

Thank you Tess and Bert, you both have so much to offer the young. Your wisdom, experience and historical stories remind us how and why this great country is flourishing.

I will be writing more about you. You really are an extraordinary couple.

Dodge City photo

My lovely great-niece and school uniform

Meet Lottie, my niece Claire's lovely daughter. Claire and Lottie moved to Australia when Lottie was 9 years old, and she has grown into a fine, wonderful young woman. Lottie is now 17, and is in the English equivalent of 6th form college. Now take a look at the uniform. The shoes in particular. I remember wearing these sandals in the 1960s at junior school! And the whole school wears the same uniform from 11-18, without fuss or bother. 18 year old lads with huge long hairy legs, in short trousers and lace ups. And they think it's cool.

Where have we gone wrong in England? I know there is the 'should we wear uniform' debate in the name of individuality, but Lottie tells me her peers like it as it reduces stress and competition. 'No worries' she says with a singing Australian accent.

In a previous blog I wrote about nurses/midwives uniforms and had a great response. What do you think?

Here is Lottie just leaving for the beach. Everyone is proud of you Lottie!

So Australia, what will you be like in 1,000 years?

We just got back from a 25k bike ride along the coast (well some of the way) from Barwon Heads to Torquay. I saw lots and thought lots along the way. I cycled on long, long empty roads next to vast expanses of unoccupied land. The population of Australia is continually increasing, and I thought about when Cook and Philips first arrived here and this great land was only inhabited by the Aboriginal people. Such dramatic change, yet for the most part, Australia is empty.

Then I thought about the things I love about Australia.

Good (my view!)

Optimism

Open spaces, traffic free roads

Sunshine and cornflour blue skies 

Happy people!

Tropical birds to see and hear 

Courteous slow drivers

Vast blue ocean, foaming waves and white sand 

Free BBQ stations along the beech

Outdoor life

Not so good

Lack of wifi for visitors...

Insects, bah. I'll never get used to them

Perceived racial prejudices

Gambling

I'm sure there are so many different opinions.

Australia has a definite pull for us, and more so now that Tom and Claire may settle here. 

But Australia, what WILL you be like in 1,000 years?

Postcards from Aloysius

I love jewellery, especially when it’s been hand made with love and care. I also am fascinated by history of people and places, and so when the two come together it’s a bonus! When I met Helen she was sat crafting special items of costume jewellery in the quaint house that she shares with my son and his girlfriend, in Bondi Beach, Sydney. I was immediately interested.

 Helen makes the most wonderful earrings, necklaces and bracelets out of old postage stamps and each individual piece of jewellery is different and tells it’s own story.  I bought SIX items as gifts to take home to England, and each one was carefully wrapped in a piece of tissue that was a piece of an old clothing pattern. This was then placed in a small enveloped 'bag' which was made from the pages of an old book.  Ingenious. Brilliant recycling!

 Helen’s brand name for her work is Postcards from Aloysius, and more details can be found here.

My very lovely friends Katie Hindle (and her sister Charlotte) and Liz Waddington would love this jewellery, each unique piece is a work of art! 

Helen uses this antique typewriter to make all her labels and business cards. I remember learning to type on one of these...eek! I must be antique!

PS Aloysius was Helen's Grandpa’s name. How special is that?

Family, friends and lots of talent!

It’s been an unusual yet very happy week.  Happy because were with our son and his girlfriend, and unusual because we were guests in their home.  Staying with Tom and Claire and their housemates Helen and Andy was an absolute pleasure. How very inspiring to be around young ones who have passion, flare and a drive to do well, in a new country on the other side of the world.

Their little quaint rented home is delightful, full of character and charm…made more intriguing by the fact that Helen made fabulous innovative jewellery in one of the rooms, and Andy’s hand painted surf board was propped up in the corner. Andy works for a charity ChildFund, as a team leader and is responsible for securing donations to improve the lives of children, and leading and managing others to do the same. What an incredibly selfless and rewarding job to do.

Our son Tom is a brilliantly talented chef in one of Australia's top restaurants, Four in Hand in Paddington, Sydney. We were so proud to be invited to dine there on Sunday night, and were treated like royalty. The fine dinning menu was something to experience- we have never tasted anything like it. Tom chose for us....exquisite. We had five creative and taste bursting courses and equally delicious carefully chosen wines. What a treat.

And then there is the lovely Claire. Claire (Babsylamb) is Tom's amazing girlfriend and is the best waitress AND the most wonderful company. Claire works at Hurricanes, a popular eating place in Bondi....famous for it's steak and ribs. Claire seems to be the web that binds everyone together in the house, loving, caring, chatting and sleeping! Oh Claire...you are such fun. Thanks to you all for making us welcome and taking such good care of us!

So we are now on holiday...down the East Coast heading towards Lakes Entrance. We have memories of being here before!

Keeping fit (phew)...well, sort of!

Paul and I have been trying to get into shape. In Broad Beach Waters we were joined by Lynne and Frank and it was a ‘team approach’ with all the activities, jogging (not good) swimming, aqua-aerobics and cycling. It’s essential at our age to keep moving, but my joints aren’t always happy! The water aerobics at Burleigh was the best….and quite an education. Quite different to the English sessions we attend, as apart from being in the open air I was surrounded by 'Hollywood' women look alikes! And that included perfect lip liner. I had to remind myself  I was in the Gold Coast.

Anyway, we’re here now at Bondi Beach where Tom and Claire live, and it seems we’re the oldest by at least three decades. More to be told of that later!

We had a completely new ‘pool swimming’ experience on our first morning, at the famous Bondi Iceberg.  The adjacent sea was lapping energetically over the walls and into the pool...what an experience. I have never been in a cold (ish) saltwater swimming pool, and I found it bracing to say the least!

Yesterday morning we arrived for a repeat session, and the pool was empty and being cleaned. MIxed feelings....

Oh no! I am hot and really needed to plunge in.

Great! I don't have to swim a mile.

So we jogged along the promendade with ultra young fit specimens, and later in the day took refuge in the sea at Tamamara. Bliss.

Goodbye Gold Coast, hello Sydney!

The past two weeks have been eventful. As I sat on board the Tiger flight to Sydney I was so very excited to be seeing my son Tom who lives there with his wonderful girlfriend, Claire. We haven’t seen them for 15 months, when we visited Australia in 2011.  We have had a luxurious two weeks staying with our dear friend Vi, sister of Frank and Lynne…and have been thoroughly spoiled.  With the mixed weather we only managed three beach days, where we sat under shade and marveled at the surfers performing their magic. As their boards arrowed over the mountainous foamy structures I was spellbound; what skill and energy they have, and it kind of symbolizes Australia for me. But the greatest respect must go to the Lifeguards and Lifesavers who work hard to maximize our safety  whilst enjoying the delights of the sea. Thank God for their courage, skill and passion to help others. It's wonderful to see.....

You don't know what you've got 'til it's gone...

Well with the storms well and truly gone and Queensland sunshine in full swing we have had time to look back and reflect on the events of last week. We still find it hard to believe that we arrived in Australia on the eve of a cyclone, but there you go. The thing that really flummoxed us all was when the electric power to the house disappeared, and whilst it happened at the most inappropriate moment (I was giving Vi a back massage and the others were watching Andy Murray and Novak Djokovic in the final nail biting moments) we learnt to improvise quickly and we had some fun. It’s hard to think of a time without electricity.  In England power cuts are brief (except for the ones I remembered in the 1970s), they last minutes, but this one lasted 2 days. No hot water, no cooking facilities, no fridge, no AC and an inability to charge gadgets! Eek! The situation made us acutely aware of our dependency on modern commodities to live our lives.  There were times when we forgot to remember that we were powerless. Whilst cooking on a camping stove in candlelight (so obviously no electricity) we all had blonde moments:

 Vi: ‘If you get too hot tonight Sheena without AC go in the spare room and put the fan on’ Lynne even carried the same fan into HER room on another occasion.

 Sheena: ‘Let’s put the TV on and see what the news is’

 Frank: ‘Lynne I’ll heat up your coffee in the microwave’

 And as the outdoor pool was about to overflow due to three days of torrential rain Paul announced that he would use his recently acquired skill and empty out some of the water….forgetting he needed electricity.  

 When the lights finally came on again we cheered and celebrated. What luxury!

The old adage is so true.

You don’t know what you've got until it’s gone.

Photo

And the rains came....on Australia Day!

We knew it was the rainy season in Queensland, and we live in the North of England, which is a constant rainy season. But we didn’t ever expect this. Rain, rain and more rain. The ex-tropical cyclone Oswald hit Broad Beach with winds up to 125 kilometres an hour as it moved down from Cairns, and Vi tells us she has never experienced anything like it in the 25 years she has lived in Australia.

The weather forced organisers to cancel Australia Day celebrations yesterday, but at No 7 Bermuda St the revelry went ahead with Vi’s friends…we had a blast. 

The tropical weather is causing havoc still, and tonight we felt worried as we drove home after seeing the Life of Pi at the cinema.

I do hope it passes soon.

Hello again Australia!

As schools closed down due to heavy snowfall in England, we arrived in Brisbane, Australia, under clear blue skies and warm sunshine. There was a cheer from passengers as the huge aircraft finally came to a standstill, and I smiled. We had finally arrived on the other side of the world; my lovely son is in this wonderful country and to be honest I feel like I am coming come here. My niece Claire and her daughter Lottie live in Barwon Heads, and it’s only 15 months since we were here, staying with them. 

Frank and Lynne are as excited as we are, and Vi is coming to meet us. Lovely Vi.

 So what’s going to be in store for us this time round?  Some things we know as we have carefully planned them….but there will be I know the unexpected events that will hopefully make us smile.  And I have Bill Bryson’s Down Under to read again to remind me of the felonious beginnings of the Antipodes, and the delights we have yet to experience.

Here we go! 

The National Childbirth Trust are not to blame....

Kirstie Allsopp’s recent criticism of the National Childbirth Trust (NCT) is very sad indeed, but I am afraid it’s yet another sign of the times. The article in The Telegraph strikes me as another ‘who can I blame?’ dialogue that is usually focused on breastfeeding. But this misguided condemnation of an organisation that has for decades campaigned, championed and worked very hard to support positive childbirth outcomes through supporting information sharing to expectant couples isn't helpful. 

I have been a midwife for 35 years. During that time midwives (including me) and doctors have unwittingly and relentlessly nudged childbirth from a social family centred occasion towards an increasingly perceived 'risky' medical event, and now women are fearful of giving birth and reliant on unnecessary medical intervention. 

The article reminds us that it is absolutely critical that no women should feel that she has 'failed' if she needs a Caesarean section for the safe delivery of her baby. A positive childbirth experience is most important. But women's disappointment needs careful support and attention, and blaming a whole organisation does not contribute to that. 

Charities like the NCT are part of a global surge to reverse the trend of increasing UNNECESSARY intervention, and their work maximizes the opportunity for women to feel empowered, to be less afraid, and to understand and believe in their ability to give birth. So if women attend NCT antenatal ‘classes’ and become strong and inspired as their baby’s due date advances, they are fortunate and in a much better position to negotiate the corridor of countless doors that face them when labour starts. But, if each of those doors sadly close due to rigid hospital guidelines, ill-informed health care professionals, hospital cultures and systems, or as often happens a change of plan from a confused mother to be, then the NCT are not to blame. 

What do you think?

2012...what a year!

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=L3TPP4QTc5w

I don't think there'll ever be another year like this one. As it leaves us, I wanted to write a post of all the heartwarming moments. Instead I made a film.

Memories!

What happened with my blog in 2012

 

Here's an excerpt:

4,329 films were submitted to the 2012 Cannes Film Festival. This blog had 18,000 views in 2012. If each view were a film, this blog would power 4 Film Festivals

Click here to see the complete report.

Patient opinion matters

It happened on Christmas Day.

Our Christian celebration and a time for love and hope and goodwill. My son J and I saw this is abundance in one single half hour in a dental surgery, and it was totally unexpected and surrounded by worry.

Our delightful little 4 year old grandson came with his big sister from Holland to celebrate Christmas with us, and during a short walk on Christmas Day afternoon, he fell full length on some ancient stone steps in the grounds of Whalley Abbey, and knocked out one his front teeth, and loosened another. Amidst his screams and copious amounts of blood, my husband ran to a nearby shop (amazingly it was open!) for tissues and then for our car to take him home.

After at least an hour of trying to convince NHS Direct that we needed a dentist and not a trip to the local hospital's emergency department, I gave up and contacted our private dental practice and asked to be put through to the emergency on call partner. A little while later we were on our way to the surgery, having been directed to enter by the back door.

To say we were anxious was an understatement, my son was as traumatised as his little boy, and we were worried about the decision about to be made on the future of the loose tooth. Dr Alison Whittaker met us at the door, with a beaming smile and such a pleasant, reassuring attitude. She instantly made us feel safe and secure. What a difference it made to us all, and our small grandson didn't hesitate climbing on the treatment couch so that she could look at him.

I have recently posted about my experience of NHS care, and the importance of positive attitude, kindness and compassion from healthcare workers. I am no stranger to the impact this has on patient experience, and how a nurturing environment aids recovery and supports families to aid the process. I have also recently discovered the brilliant and 'common sense' work of Robin Youngson who demonstrates how 'compassionate care saves time, money and lives'. And I have seen it myself from a caregivers, patient, and family member perspective.

Through #Twitter I came across Patient Opinion, the UK's leading independent non-profit feedback platform for health services. The website facilitates 'honest and meaningful conversations between patients and health services', and I was happy to tell them about our liaison with Dr Whittaker. I think feedback is a powerful tool, and crucial in encouraging and supporting first class health care. And what better way to let someone know they have made a difference? Or that there needs to be an improvement?

And what a perfect antedote to the negative unsolicited media coverage of the National Health Service, which does nought but instil fear in those who use it. Patient Opinion can help those of us who work or have worked for the NHS and affiliated services to promote positive stories and further empower those who are committed to serving their community with pride.

Do you have a story to tell?

A little scare and our wonderful NHS

The thing I had dreaded for years happened. I was recalled after a routine mammogram.

Some of my dear friends have received the same letter, and after recheck have been diagnosed with breast cancer. I also know that many women are invited for further checks, and sent home with reassurance that all is well. I actually had a premonition that I would be recalled, and although shocked to see the green letter (denoting a problem I feared) I was quite calm. I tried to stay positive, and succeeded I think, but as my husband and I drove into the hospital car park my stomach started to churn. Would this be the beginning of a change in my life? The fear started to creep in. We had trouble parking, and so arrived at the department just in time.

As soon as I walked through the door I received impeccable and exemplary attention. The receptionist was warm, smiling and kind. She went out of her way to direct me to the waiting room, and I instantly felt reassured. There were three other couples in the waiting area, all staring at the TV in the corner. I got out my knitting (Christmas presents!) and started to focus on being calm and strong. After 10 minutes I was called into a treatment room by Rachel, who quietly and carefully told me why I had been asked to come for further checks, and she showed me by mammogram images. A tiny small area of concern had been highlighted and that was the problem. Rachel was so very considerate and reassuring. She gave me the most appropriate care, and helped me to relax. I had a further structured mammogram, then an ultrasound scan. With the help of lovely assistant Heather, Dr Ahmed carried out the scan, and after formally introducing himself and shaking my hand he performed the task sensitively and at all times maintained my dignity. I am shy, so this procedure made me feel anxious. After checking my lymph nodes carefully, he informed me that the tests were clear, and that there was nothing to worry about.

With eyes full of tears, I thanked Dr Ahmed and Heather, and gave them feedback on their positive attitude and approach, explaining how it had helped minimise my fears.

On the way home (with an equally relieved husband) I reflected on this brief but important and potentially life-changing experience, and I felt and still feel enormously thankful to such dedicated caring staff at East Lancashire Hospitals Trust (Burnley site), and to the NHS as a whole.

Amazing.

We owe you so much.

Cuz Fest 2012

This month my sisters and cousins shared precious time together, at my home. We have tried to do this at least once a year following a successful 'Red Tent' weekend seven years ago, to celebrate my 50th birthday. That occasion was an amazing experience; all female descendants of Gertrude Dixon, my grandmother, in one large house in the Yorkshire Dales. We shared skills, stories, home made family films and delicious food and drink. We also entertained each other. It was a unique time, never to be forgotten. 

This time there were just six of us, cousins. Daughters of Kathleen, Mary, and Maud. We laughed and chatted, ate and drank...and I was able to use my new found skill to help the cousins feel relaxed...I gave them a massage! I think they liked it.

So here you see me, Anne and Eileen my sisters, and Pat, Barbara and Juliet. Some of us are photographed twice as there was no one to take us all together!

We feel blessed. Roll on next year.

My birthday and a message from my sister

I woke up this morning, my 57th birthday, to this email in my inbox from my lovely sister. What more could I ask for?

This isn't just an old photo.... well it is.. but for me it opens up a treasury of wonderful memories and what better day than today to share it with you ...
as children I could never be AFRAID of the dark because your voice was always there pleading for more stories... long after the light had left the sky outside......

ARMS  linked through mine as we walked home from work through those terraced streets.... tired yet full of the days' gossip....

 two EXCITED young girls  as I slipped into my wedding dress and we talked of our lives changing forever....

TEARS as you lovingly placed my beautiful daughter into my arms that you had safely delivered into my world...

HANDS held in wait for the devastating news of our mums stroke knowing that from this day our world would never be the same... 

PRIDE as I watch you walk through those gates into Buckingham Palace to receive your OBE and knowing that this  world is a better place because of you...

REASURRED that wherever we are in this world of ours no matter what the problem might be..I can rely on you totally because you are MY sister...
I love you always

ESPECIALLY today Sheena

much love Eileen